


there's lions in our swan song, humanity in our heroism

by prettyshiroic (kcgane)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Modern Fantasy, Some angst, Superheroes, here we go.!, im emo, keith and shiro are superheroes in the same city, more emotional h/c, superhero au, superhero au!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 09:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11249895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcgane/pseuds/prettyshiroic
Summary: “If you fight with me they’ll find a way to use that against me, they always do-”“-Cut the crap, Shiro! I’m not your sidekick. I’m my own person and I want to fight by your side.”Keith spun round and dared Shiro to question that. Stunned into silence by the intensity of Keith’s gaze, Shiro simply watched him intently. Sadly. And that was a fraction too close to pity for his liking. Fingers itched to reach out, but Keith kept his arms tightly folded. He clutched his arms, nails clawing the fabric.“I can't save lives whilst thinking about yours too, Keith.”“Do you think you're the only one who has that problem? Everyone has people they care about but pushing them away when you need them isn't right.”“Keith-”“-The only person responsible for what happens to me is myself. And I chose this, I will always choose-”“-You don't know what you're saying!” Shiro yelled back, unravelling under the strain. “If something ever happened to you I don't know what I’d do. Keith you can't fight you can't I- I won't let you fight again-”“Excuse me?”---The city of Altea has two heroes to its name. They have yet to come together.





	there's lions in our swan song, humanity in our heroism

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HedonistInk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HedonistInk/gifts).



> Written for the vld positivity day! I really hope you enjoy this story InterdictedKai 8) 
> 
> small warnings for superhero violence, some blood mention and mild injury. don't want to give away stuff but it will become clear that bold text is different to standard italics. 
> 
> alrigHT let's get going.....!

Keith never asked to be a hero. He didn’t ask to be put on a pedestal and _seen_ for the first time by thousands and thousands of gleaming eyes that didn’t actually see him they just saw exactly what they wanted to see. He didn’t want to be in the spotlight. It was a place that sharpened his face too much, cast sweeping shadows beneath his eyes and etched frown lines into his skin that weren't there before.

“Hey, Axon! Can we ask you a few questions before you leave?”

“Sure, I guess.”

Keith never asked to be a hero. But in the face of peril and when the time came to step up, he had. Of course he had. Because for some reason, the universe had given him something inexplicable: superpowers. It happened on an ordinary Tuesday evening two years ago. He and Shiro were unfortunately in the wrong place at the wrong time. Two friends, walking down a street corner in the early hours of the evening. And it was then that an attack on Altea City had broken out practically metres from them. The pair of them swiftly were caught in the middle of a battle they couldn’t escape, and then shortly after that were hit by a blast they weren’t supposed to survive.

 _Takashi! Grab my hand!_ Keith winced, memories surfacing. Fingers twitch around the air, squeezing tightly into a fist. _I’ve got you. Don’t let go-_

_-Keith look out!_

Needless to say, the pair of them were changed forever since then. Though if he had a choice in the matter of what he wound up with, Keith would’ve asked for super speed or cool fire power.

But instead, he was stuck with _this_. And honestly, thank god he knew parkour and trained hard at the gym to be a competent fighter in multiple types of martial arts. Relying on his powers alone was a risk. There was only so much it offered, and balancing himself out had advantages. The universe had never dealt him the best hand, but he was determined to work with whatever he had.

Sometimes, that was _all_ he had.

“So your powers, you just… you can hear people’s thoughts?”

Keith heard the hesitation, the _dismissal._ Just. Yeah. Keith had thought that was all there was to it as well, _hoped_ that had been all. It had already been an intrusive invasion into his very being and privacy _._ Sometimes it felt less like the gift everyone said it had to be, more like a weight that pushed and pushed on his shoulders until he was toppling from the gravity of words he was never supposed to hear.

Thoughts and feelings, constantly overloaded by people and their problems. It had taken _months_ to tune out the noise. Voices were like radio frequencies, scattered everywhere and all thrown his way. With Shiro’s help and guidance, he had found a way to focus solely on one voice at a time and block the rest out at will.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that.” Keith explained with a frown. “It’s not just thoughts. It’s emotions, too. It’s - _everything_ you are. I can see that and I- I can make others see it too.”

“Like what?”

“Well, take Prorok.” Keith gestured behind them to the recently apprehended villain. “I projected emotions onto him to make him think he was feeling that. But he wasn’t, and neither was I. Overpowering him with hesitance for a second gave me enough time to get an opening and stop him.”

“That’s pretty cool, man. So, Axon - do you have anything to say about Atria’s victory against Sendak?”

Shiro. _Atria._ The heart of Altea. Compared to Keith, Shiro had gotten quite a different set of powers when exposed to the blast that night. Shiro gained super strength and the ability to fly. And oh did he fly. Shiro soared, growing into a person many revered and idolised. Shiro took the transformation in his stride, becoming a role model and symbol of hope for the people. Despite losing an arm from the blast, a prosthetic enhanced by the Holts in its place, Shiro had pledged himself to help others.

“I’m hardly surprised.” He said, as neutral as possible. Something brewed in his chest uncomfortably.

Keith hadn’t seen Shiro for almost two weeks. Being heroes meant scheduling meetings wasn’t exactly _easy._ Not to mention fitting in a job, because Altea may love its heroes but it damn well didn’t _pay them._ If they wanted to survive, they had to strive for normalcy and routine.

“You two would make such a good team!”

The words affected him more than they should have done. And he _shouldn’t_ have let it, but the frustration boiling through him leaked out and fed into those around him. Eyes wide, Keith quickly attempted to shift it into something else. Narrowing his eyes, he held up a hand and channeled all his energy into the task. The frustration exploded like fireworks, the remnants of it sprinkling jubilation across the crowd. Applause broke out amongst the people, alongside smiles. Turning on his heel, Keith walked away, lips set into a firm line. He couldn’t buy into the feeling he’d given them. Instead, his mind was focused on the words.

_Good team._

By the time he rounded the corner, the crowd were too swept up in the fabricated joy to notice he was gone.  

**-**

“Keith _back up._ ” Shiro ordered, but Keith wasn't listening.

“Negative, sir.”

It was sharp, it was pointed and Keith made sure to prod Shiro with the _irritation_ he felt as he strode forwards and delivered a final kick to the villain right in the stomach. And that was that. The authorities would be here soon to pick up the villain and contain them. Keith had come to this district for a reason, and that was to help Shiro. The fight had been escalating close to something catastrophic and if Keith hadn’t jumped in when he had then the situation right now could be very different.

The fight should have been finished now, thanks to their combined efforts. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t, because Keith saw Shiro’s floating shadow hovering over him. He could hear that irritation being spat right back in his direction before it even was voiced.

“What was that all about?” Shiro asked.

Keith started walking, foolish enough to believe for a second he might just be able to outrun the man who could fly through the sky. He could see the shadow above him, and that was part of the problem. Shiro was so high above him, so very high in so many ways. It wasn’t hard to see the gaping space between them, the space Keith had no idea how to break through. He wanted to sit there with Shiro, be a true equal and earn that place. But he hadn’t yet. And it stung.

“Me. Fighting.”

“You know what I mean.” Keith hated how he sounded controlled, level-headed and everything Keith knew he wasn’t in this moment. Always wearing masks for the sake of everybody else, even at the _expense_ of himself.

“Yeah, I do. I know _exactly_ what you mean. All the time.” Keith never poked his mind into places he had no business being. But that didn’t change what he saw, what he _knew_ about Shiro.

“Why are you being like this?” Disbelief slipped into Shiro’s voice. He landed in front of Keith, cape billowing out behind him from the gust. Keith felt the ground shake with the landing, as did his heart. Keith sidestepped. Shiro let him go and it _hurt._

“Keith, you know why we can’t fight together. Today turned out good but it doesn't always. It’d be too dangerous.”

“Things are _already_ dangerous out here. The second we give into fear and let it guide our choices is the second it wins. That’s what you always said.”

“I agree. Which is why we can’t do this.”

“Are we seeing different things?!” Keith snapped, arms folded to avoid throwing them out in exasperation. “Because what I saw happen back there was one of the most effective takedowns this city has ever seen! And you know that, I know you do. So just stop- stop-”

“-Stop what, Keith?”

“Stop treating me like I’m still _some kid_! You don’t have to try and protect me like everybody else around here!” It was true. Keith was twenty now, Shiro was only three years ahead of him.

“If you fight with me they’ll find a way to use that against me, they _always_ do-”

“-Cut the crap, Shiro! I’m not your sidekick. I’m my own person and I want to fight by your side.”

Keith spun round and dared Shiro to question that. Stunned into silence by the intensity of Keith’s gaze, Shiro simply watched him intently. _Sadly._ And that was a fraction too close to pity for his liking. Fingers itched to reach out, but Keith kept his arms tightly folded. He clutched his arms, nails clawing the fabric.

“I can't save lives whilst thinking about yours too, Keith.”

“Do you think you're the _only one_ who has that problem? Everyone has people they care about but pushing them away when you need them isn't right.”

“Keith-”

“-The only person responsible for what happens to me is _myself._ And I chose this, I will always choose-”

“-You don't know what you're saying!” Shiro yelled back, unravelling under the strain. “If something ever happened to you I don't know what I’d do. Keith you can't fight you _can't_ I- I won't let you fight again-”

“Excuse me?”

“This was a mistake I shouldn't have come here! I should’ve _known_ you’d be like this. You have to be safe, Keith. _You have to be._ ”

This wasn't Shiro lapping up the glory and taking the trophy as the hero. This was Shiro taking the weight of _everything,_ a plea to let him do this and be the only person to fall into the darkness _._ And this was not okay. A laugh fell from Keith’s lips. It wasn't happy or kind. It was rough, raw.

“You know something, Takashi?” He started, unable to stop himself. “Sometimes you look at me and all I think you see is Ryou _.”_

It was a step too far. Keith could feel the shockwaves of what he said rupturing everything. The city was still standing, but the foundations they’d built were collapsing. Shiro’s mind was wide open and with it came a canvas of devastation. Little Ryou crying out, little Ryou so far away no matter how fast Shiro flew. Ryou Shirogane, who the world’s wonderboy just couldn't save. Keith saw it all splayed out before him, the wave of immeasurable grief and sorrow crawled into his own veins and seized him.

Shiro wasn’t crying, but his _mind_ was weeping. And it was all in the voice of Ryou. It was a haunting sound, one Keith could barely stand to hear. Yet something told him Shiro heard it too much, far more than he ever seemed to let on. Keith didn’t want to be right. But he was right. This failure, this _loss_ followed him everywhere - this was at the heart of all Shiro’s decisions. This was why he _couldn’t_ let Keith in much further than he had. _Save him. Takashi! Save him-_

-Keith forced a barrier, refusing to go any deeper. Shiro may have been showing him this, but it probably wasn’t because he wanted Keith to see it. It was because his mind was exposed. People did that, lowered down their defences, when they were upset.

The atmosphere grew heavier and more ruinous around them. In the streets behind them, people were cheering. They sounded happy, overjoyed. Keith only had to stretch his mind a little to glimpse into their prevalent relief. There was pure elation that once again good had prevailed. Such strong emotions set against everything he had just seen inside Shiro was jarring. Standing here, the muffled celebrations ringing on, it was far too quiet. The people round the corner had everything Keith had never known: family. And the thought of losing the one person who came close to becoming that _and more_ shook him to the bones.

“You _need me._ ” The words were spoken a little too desperately to sound like a statement. Keith wasn’t sure, so the question rang out.

It went unanswered. Pause. Nothing. _I need you. I need you._ Keith tore the barrier back down, hurtling the purest form of that thought he could towards Shiro. Shiro needed to hear it, he needed to know. _I need you, Shiro._

“You need me.” He repeated, a slight challenge to his voice. Shiro held his gaze so confidently, but said nothing. He had gone horribly impassive since the mention of his brother. His eyes were vacant galaxies; Keith had plucked out the stars.

“I need you to accept my decision and calm down.”

Both of them fell silent, grappling with this growing rift.  

“Fine.”

This was not fine. This was _far from fine._ This was a significant moment, the kind of make or break that sticks forever. Permanent. This void spiralling out of control, sucking everything into it, could be permanent.

“Fine? That’s all you’re going to say.” Shiro prompted, voice devoid of anything constructive himself. He was being calculated in his words, and Keith couldn’t read _anything_ in them. Part of him was too afraid to try. His mouth opened, but Shiro got to the brewing silence first. Holding up his hands, Shiro took a step back _._ A gesture of humility and surrender. And this was all wrong this was _so wrong_ so terribly wrong.

“Fine.” Shiro said, delivering the final blow. It wasn’t too different from how he fought the villains, strong and steady. With intent to finish something.

“Yeah.” Keith’s voice was unsteady, vision blurring and dotted. He could feel Shiro’s eyes on him, and the refusal to meet the empty gaze was almost the most cowardly thing he could’ve done. Almost because Keith started walking and once he did he couldn’t stop.

Keith walked away.

Shiro, the man who flew through the sky at high speeds and could have followed like Keith had _always_ followed, let him.

**-**

Heroes didn’t get to mourn, or mope.

Or _regret._

Keith had been apologetic many times, set against the backdrops of shattered buildings and _destroyed homes._ Families torn apart, whole communities shaken and brought to their knees by the violent attacks on their city. Keith had been guilty, life _before_ Axon wasn’t a life he thought much about. He had been existing, surviving. Doing whatever he could to keep alive, even if that meant having to break his own terms.

But in spite of all that, Keith was never regretful.

Every choice he made, he made with firm assurance. If it happened, it happened. Whatever came next was the result of his choice. And committing to an action and seeing it through was the best thing to do. Being a hero meant making difficult choices, having to think quickly and be _decisive_ when it counted. After everything, taking something back would make it all pointless, render the resolve into nothing.

Yet for the first time in his life, Keith could feel it stewing deep inside. It was nauseating, churning through him mercilessly.

Keith wanted to take it all back. Those words, what he’d _said_ to Shiro. The fact he’d walked away and not tried to build the bridge. He’d _crossed_ it, alone. And what exactly that meant hit him hours later, in a narrow abandoned alleyway. Pulling off his mask, Keith sagged against the wall. Breath coming in rapid short bursts, heart aching. The thoughts manifesting inside him were too big to fit in his pounding head, too _awful_ to indulge. But they persisted and gnawed further into him until all he could hear was his own voice and all he could see was Shiro’s broken expression. The one _he_ had put there.

Regret.

Keith could feel regret.

“Help! Someone help!”

Keith put on his mask without hesitation, pushing himself off the wall.

Heroes didn’t get lucky breaks, or rewrites.

“Please, someone, anyone!”

Heroes couldn’t look back, especially for themselves.  

**-**

Weeks passed, and the world kept turning. Weeks bled into months. Months passed, and the world still kept on turning. People kept existing day in and day out. Keith kept breathing. Keith woke up earlier than he wanted each morning. Keith brushed his teeth twice a day. Keith did his laundry a little less than he should’ve done. Keith went to work at his job where people yelled at him for giving them the wrong change. Keith saved the world a few times a week. Keith also went to the gym a few times a week. Sometimes, Keith did them both on the same day.

Villains came and villains went. Flitting in and out of life. Some battles were short and fiery. Others were long and resulted in hefty damage. And that was it. Keith was trapped in a dull monotonous cycle. He wasn’t even considering how to break pattern anymore, which was concerning in itself. Because the absence of _something_ \- someone - was all too noticeable on his life. Keith could carry on without Shiro. He _would._ But it wasn’t easy. It was going to take time - especially when each time the bell rang at the shop door, he had wanted to see Takashi Shirogane walking in like he always used to. A playful smile, eyes shining with mischief as he used to step into the shop. _Hey Keith,_ _did you hear about Axon last night?_

Shiro hadn’t called once. Or texted. It had been complete radio silence since their disagreement that had gotten out of control. But Atria was _everywhere._ Even the places Keith wanted to find solace, he was there. Keith couldn’t escape him even if he _wanted to._ People weren’t that careful with their thoughts at the supermarket. Subconscious bursts constantly were thrown in Keith’s direction. He just wanted to stack the shelves in peace. Shutting off his mind completely was exhausting. It took a lot of manpower to hold off _everyone’s_ conscious. And it also left him at the mercy of his own.

The truth was, at this point other people’s random arbitrary thoughts and emotions were becoming welcomed. They were a distraction. If he had to start trawling through and purposefully making this entire building a Shiro Free Zone, then he would use his powers for that purpose. Headaches be damned.

 **_Axon_ ** _._

A potent voice ripped through his mind suddenly, echoing with something sinister he couldn’t place. People only ever used this trick if they wanted his attention, most notably those threatening the city.

 **_Axon_ ** _._

The voice sounded cold and chilling. Keith knew what this meant, and knew what it entailed. This was a villain. And they were in the shop. Which meant, _they knew who Keith was._ Keith set down the canned vegetables, trying not to be obvious in his movements. Somewhere in this shop, he was being watched. Keith reigned in the apprehension rushing through him, letting that out would be a costly mistake. As he turned, he caught eyes with a tall man with long silver hair. The was an an enigmatic quality about them, unworldly almost. And that was all the confirmation he needed. Keith walked over.

“Can I help you with something?” He asked, head inclined a fraction.

“Oh yes. I’m having trouble finding the mince in this place. Could you show me?”

It was the same voice. Keith straightened up, glancing around the shop quickly.

**_What do you really want._ **

“Sure. It’s down this aisle.”

**_What do I want? A few words is all. I can assume you’re getting these thoughts from me, I’m being incredibly open with my mind just for you._ **

Keith pursed his lips, heading towards the mince. Gesturing to the food, he met those piercing eyes again slowly.

“Here it is.”

**_How did you find me._ **

“Thank you for being so helpful.”

**_How do you think, Axon?_ **

Keith didn’t know. He was always so careful with his identity. Nobody ever paid him _that much_ attention as Keith. And that was _okay._ Keith was used to that, he preferred it that way. Axon was different, but he had figured out relatively quickly how to blend into the world. Now, however, that was all compromised. His mind was _reeling_ at the implications _._ Pulsating pain grew at the back of his head. All his energy was fixed on _not_ letting a single emotion out. He couldn’t give this guy anything.

“It’s no problem.” Pause. “We have some more specialised stock in the back of the store. If you were interested, I could show you.” Keith opened the door, almost missing the handle. Catching a breath, he walked forwards.

“How generous of you… You’re my hero.”

The second the door closed and they were in a private space, the situation changed. Keith promptly pulled out the knife tucked into his belt, inching away to get a good distance and come up with a plan fast. But it was futile. The stranger lunged instantly and _damn_ he was fast. Incredibly fast. Keith found himself slammed to the ground forcefully.

So super speed was his power, then. Great. _Just great._

“Axon, it’s so nice to meet you in person. Allow me to introduce myself. Lotor - you might have heard of me.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

Keith _had_ definitely heard of Lotor. This villain had never made an appearance here, but the news were constantly running stories on the chaos they had been causing a few towns away.

“What are you here for? You could’ve killed me by now.” Keith pointed out, swinging a leg up. The move was easily avoided. Keith sat up and crawled backwards, only to have Lotor suddenly materialising right in front of his face.

“I don’t want to kill you. I’m actually here to send you a message.”

“I’m listening.” Keith hissed, trying to poke a hole into Lotor’s mind and gather more information. But he was slippery and fast. Each time an opportunity arose, it vanished even quicker. As did Lotor. Standing up, Keith scanned the area quickly. A shadow emerged behind him, one he was too slow to even _consider_ dodging.

“I’m planning a little something around here in a few days time. Nothing too extravagant, but it’ll be my big debut in the city. Whilst I doubt you have any chance at defeating me, I need you to stay out of my way and let this happen.”

“Why would I do that?”

Everything about this had alarm bells ringing in his head. Lotor was toying with him, _testing him._ He was waiting for Keith to throw in an attack.

“Because I know something you don’t.” Lotor teased, circling Keith tauntingly. Stepping forwards, Keith leapt out the circle. Lotor grew still, leaning against the wall. Having seen how fast he moved, that was unsettling.

“Whatever it is Lotor, you can forget it.”

Keith wasn’t interested in making deals, he was interested in doing the right thing. But then came the words, the words Keith dreaded to hear.

“If Atria was in danger, your answer would be quite different. I’m sure.” Lotor cooed, twirling silver strands of hair around his fingers.

“He’s not in danger.” Keith responded coolly, trying to ease the rising panic. He could feel the _glee_ radiating from Lotor. Lotor was happy about this, _thrilled._ Keith couldn’t give him a reaction. But by striving not to do so, he’d already laid all his cards on the table. Keith had always had such a terrible pokerface.

“Not yet. But dear Takashi will be in about five minutes.”

Takashi. The use of that name here, in this context had Keith surging forwards. Lotor evaded his grasp easily. The knife was snatched from Keith’s hand.

“A Luxite blade… how very interesting.”

“ _What have you done_ .” Keith tried to remain level-headed. Keep his ground. Hold himself and make sure he did this right because if this was _true_ if Shiro was in trouble _-_

“I’m right here, how could _I_ have done anything?”

Keith focused his mind and sent the strongest wave of fear he could towards Lotor. He wanted him to quiver, to cower back and _stop this_ . The fear was tangible, spewing rapidly forwards. Keith clenched a fist and prodded further, looking for an opening. And then something dangerous happened. The fear warped when it made contact, it betrayed him. Keith was no longer giving Lotor the _sensation_ of fear, he was giving Lotor the sensation of his own fear. He was pouring unspoken secrets right into Lotor’s palm. Retracting his mind immediately, Keith jolted back.

But it was too late.

Lotor had felt, seen, _heard,_ everything.

“My, my, my…” Lotor’s fingers steepled together, a sharp pyre of power. “You’re really quite taken with him aren’t you."

“Quit playing games. Tell me where he is. Start talking.” Keith furiously countered, head throbbing with the aftermath of their connection. Unaffected by the interruption, Lotor continued.

“You just went into my mind Axon, and you chose not to extract that information. Instead you foolishly tried to attack me and it backfired.” Lips were thinly spread across jagged teeth. “Let today be the day you remember the gravity of _your choices_.”

Diving forwards, Lotor slammed Keith into the wall and pinned him there by the throat. The pain shot through Keith’s back. Keith flung it helplessly towards Lotor, who simply laughed.

“Your little parlour tricks won’t work on me. Have you ever considered that’s why Takashi doesn’t want you by his side? Because he knows _exactly_ how dispensable and useless your powers are! You’re the thorn in the champion’s side.”

Gasping for air, Keith clawed at the hands on his throat. _No._ Releasing abruptly, Lotor stepped back. He seemed expectant. Keith heaved heavily on the ground, blinking slowly. It took a few seconds to get a hold on his body and bring himself back to full attention. Even then, he was spluttering and struggling to get himself upright.

“Why are you _doing this?”_ His voice was hoarse, words difficult to voice. Using his mind was not an option, who knows what else he may accidentally send Lotor’s way.

“I want to see what you’re both made of, call this an audition of sorts. If our dear Atria doesn’t survive this, then I ought to have a back-up hero. That’s you, Keith.” Crouching down beside him, Lotor cocked his head in amusement. “So what do you think of our little introduction, hm?”

“Where is he.” Keith hissed, hauling himself up to his knees. A hand came up to his face, holding it insistently.

“Oh Axon…I’m so sorry. I'm so terribly sorry, but I have absolutely no clue.”

That was _it_.

Eyes darkening, Keith pushed against the firm grip on his jaw. His leg kicked out, knocking Lotor back. And with it Keith sent as much as the fear he felt inside towards him. Only this time, Keith wasn’t afraid of showing it. He sent it all. Every fibre of his being screaming with the hot burning rage smothering his lungs and suffocating any rational thought. Next came the sharp jagged resolve, cutting through anything in its path. Lotor _flinched_ , speed rendered useless against an attack like this.

“Feel that?” Keith asked, squeezing his fist tightly. With it the fiery pressure collapsing his own composure engulfed Lotor. So much for _parlour tricks._

“That's just the _start_ of what will happen if he's not safe. So I'll ask you again.” This time it was Keith’s turn to crouch down. But his newfound enemy wasn't threatened. Lotor looked up, smirking at him. “ _Where is Takashi?”_

“I already gave you the answer. Take a look for yourself.”

Keith did. He trudged through the wicked intelligent mind without reserve. The first few layers took effort to break through, but he got there. And once he did, what he found had him dashing back into the shop. Grabbing his rucksack from the back room, Keith pulled off his clothes to reveal the undersuit and slipped on his dark red mask. He didn't waste time, shoving the exhaustion his body felt towards anyone in his way. Groggily, the people moved. Stifling yawns; all whilst Keith was stifling wretched sobs that came out dry and breathy.

Lotor wasn't lying.

Somewhere in Altea, Shiro was in danger.

But he didn't know where.

**-**

  ** _Shiro!_**

Keith broadcasted the thought as loudly as he could in his head, breaking into a run down the street. People gasped, starting to become more fretful at the sight of Axon. Then they started _screaming_ and it was only then Keith realised he was the cause. _He_ was making this happen. The screaming was him. All the things twisting round his body, seizing him tightly, were being tossed out to anyone nearby. Terror. _Desperation._ Trepidation.

The thoughts that weren't even their own seeped out rapidly, barreling into him. Everything became unbearably amplified.

_Something’s wrong._

_I'm so scared. Why am I so scared?_

_I never told him. Now I may never get to._

_-I need to find him. I have to find him._

The crowd grew more sporadic under his presence. Mindlessly, they ran in different directions. To safety, to somewhere _anywhere_ because he was out there somewhere. Without sense, without logic - the people of the city fed off everything Keith was exuding. Keith didn't stop running either, _couldn't_ stop running because he needed to find Shiro. He had no idea how to reign this back in, to _stop this._ A tumultuous storm of his own turmoil wreaked havoc through any nearby. There was the smashing of glass, the crashing sound of collisions and things shattering to pieces - _just like he was._

Even if he could stop this, he didn't have time.

Lotor had said five minutes - it had already started.

**_Shiro! Are you there?_ **

Rounding the corner, Keith felt the ripples of his own chaos push into him. It was so strong, he almost lost his footing. Cars had swerved into the pavement, people were rioting, babies were crying. The entire street was plagued in a fit of panicked rage. And those emotions raced back towards him with an intensity so volatile he could no longer contain it. Legs giving way, Keith stumbled clumsily into a crashed car. Holding onto the bonnet for balance, he exhaled slowly. In and out. Hold for three. Repeat. _Come on, come on._

Now was not the time to be impulsive, to succumb to these emotions wrestling inside him and projecting onto the citizens. Keith was standing in the epicentre of anarchy, and he was the root cause of it. And still somewhere out there, was Shiro.

In danger.

“Patience. Yields. Focus.” He said, eyes closing. Thoughts came flooding in harder and faster to his system. Gritting his teeth, Keith absorbed it all.

_I don't know what's happening to me but I'm so scared._

Patience _._

_Please, Axon help me. I don't know what's going on._

Yields.

 _I can't find him where is he where am I what am_ _I doing here-_

Focus.

_STOP! EVERYONE STOP!_

Focus.

_Where are our heroes? Why aren't they helping us?_

Focus. Focus. Focus. _Focus._ Patience yields focus patience yields focus it yields focus patience-

- **_Keith?_ **

Eyes snapping open, Keith leapt into action. He sprinted towards the abandoned motorbike in the centre of the road, not wasting second. Ignition started, he ploughed forwards. The engine roared; the noise in Keith’s head was louder. Stronger.

**_Shiro? Shiro it's me, Keith._ **

The location exploded violently in his mind. The abandoned warehouse. Of course. Keith took the corner a touch too fast. But he had he skill to get himself back on track. Eyes fixed ahead, Keith upped the speed. Shiro had dropped out. Keith couldn't reach him anymore.

 ** _Hang on, I'm coming. Shiro?_**  

Nothing. The next two minutes were the most agonising of his life. He could see the warehouse ahead, he could also see in the mirrors the aftermath of his powers on the city. Smoke billowed up in the air, the tension high and prominent enough for small pings of energy to hurtle into him.

Slamming down the accelerator further, Keith barged recklessly into the warehouse doors. Leaping off the bike as it crashed into a stack of crates, Keith scanned the area. The second he spotted Shiro, _lying on the floor,_ he didn't hesitate.

“Shiro!” He called out, bringing his hands to Shiro’s shoulders. He was bound by rope. Usually this would do _absolutely_ _nothing_ to hold back the superhero. But here he was, helpless. Keith felt the fury blazing through him. This was a message, an attempt to humiliate Shiro and discredit everything he’d worked so hard to build.

“Shiro what - what happened? _”_ Reaching for his knife, Keith sliced through the rope. It gave way easier than expected.

“I don't know.” Shiro managed weakly, eyes hazy and voice distant. Hoisting him up, Keith searched gently for injuries. There was no serious bleeding besides some cuts on his face and a few tears in the suit. But even so, he’d taken quite some damage. Enough to be defenceless and _on the floor._

“Some kind of new weapon I haven't seen before. I think it was called Luxite.”

Lotor’s words came back to him, instantly. Glancing down at his blade, Keith put it back into his pocket. A luxite blade. That’s what he said. Attention pivoting back to Shiro instantly, Keith frowned. He could feel the weight of Shiro pressing into him, which had to mean this was a struggle.

“Can you walk okay?”

“Knew you’d come.” Shiro offered absently, wheezing as he tried to talk. Something shifted then. Keith felt it, a second too late. The juxtaposition of something so very _unlike_ Shiro resonating deep within him. It was cold. It was detached.  

“ _You shouldn’t have come_.”

Yellow eyes greeted him as he turned his head. Followed by a sadistic smirk that didn’t belong on Shiro’s face _because this wasn’t Shiro._ And with that, Keith was thrown backwards with enough force to fall into the pile of crates. It was vicious. It was relentless. He landed with a thud. Scrambling onto his feet, Keith drew out the blade and charged as the attacker moved forwards. The lookalike, the _deceptive_ illusion, conjured a staff.

“Where’s Shiro?!” Keith’s voice cracked, words fracturing.

Their weapons collided. Keith’s modest but durable blade was no match for the staff. But like _hell_ was he quitting now.

“He didn’t stand a chance against me.”

_No. No. No._

Keith fought back furiously parrying the rapid onslaught of blows. He didn’t even have time to _think,_ which was exactly what the enemy wanted. Without time to think, Keith couldn’t use his powers properly. He was practically fighting bound, in the dark and unable to turn the tables. Shiro’s eyes - no _their eyes -_ gleamed with pure malice. It was unnatural. It was a jarring expression on such a face.  

“He was weak.” Hit. Keith growled and dodged. “He was _afraid,_ just like you.” Keith slipped out of rhythm, staff whacking him in the chest. There was a resounding thud that had him yelping at the pain flooding his senses. Gripping onto the knife tight, Keith endured. It hurt. That was undeniable. But the words were cutting deeper into him. The words he couldn’t listen to and refused to believe. _It wasn’t true, it couldn’t be true._

“And he died alone, calling out for you.”

Supernova. A cataclysmic eruption that obliterated him from the inside-out. Keith couldn’t lose control now. Not here. _Not like this._ When the next blow came, Keith was underprepared. It collided with his face and drew back with blood. Keith spat the metallic taste out. Eyes sharp. Narrowed. He may not be as fast as Lotor had proven himself to be in the alley, but he did have an impressive knack for being agile. Then the knife was shoved out his hands. He stood no chance. He reached for the knife. The staff rammed into his side. And then Keith fell with a strangled cry. The knife was too far to reach. Out of reach, _out of reach._ The staff lifted.

“Seems like it’s time you for you to join him.”

Down it fell. A thunderous noise tore through the warehouse. Keith rolled to the side with the new distraction, narrowly missing the hit. When his eyes opened again, the entire roof was _gone._ A figure crashed down through the debris. The landing shook the entire room, had fissures running through the cement. An unmistakable stance, an unmistakable cape billowing behind him.

“Sorry I’m late.”

An unmistakable voice. Keith’s face split into a shaky smile as he hauled himself back onto his feet.

“Better late than never.”

Newfound determination coursed through him. Back to back, they stared down the lookalike. Staff in hand, their opponent was already prepared to strike.

“Provoke and evade. Let’s figure out how this guy fights.” Shiro said.

“Roger that.”

Their eyes met briefly, and Keith felt the concern wrap around him.

**_Are you okay?_ **

Enemy approaching, Keith steeled himself.

**_Yeah. I think so._ **

It became fluid, then. Shiro bolted left. Keith right. Moves were perfectly in sync, _naturally_ in sync. Months apart dissolved away. Circling their opponent, they fell swiftly fell back as the staff came forwards. And those few seconds were revealing enough.

“There’s force but the attacks aren’t as coordinated as they look. He’s relying on the staff.”

Shiro nodded, prosthetic glowing purple.

“We gotta get that out the equation. And fast.”

“I’ll get you an opening.” Ready to move into the firing line, Keith felt himself tugged back by Shiro’s firm grip.  

“Actually, think you can startle him for me? Word on the street is you caused quite a mayhem.”

Poor pun and terrible comedic timing aside, Shiro’s words caught Keith off-guard. He wasn’t wrong. Keith had been the sole cause of an entire _street_ unravelling into panic. If there was one thing he was confident he could do, it was honing in an attack powerful enough to offset their opponent. Now he had time and the means to really _focus,_ it was well within his capabilities. _How Shiro knew this, though -_ well. Keith didn’t want to know. The thought of Shiro seeing _that_ had him reeling.

A grin slid over his face easily as he got to work. As opposed to the mild satisfaction and growing exhaustion recent fights had brought, this was different. Keith felt exhilarated. His pulse thrummed loudly in his veins and exploded in his chest. He felt _alive._ Channelling as much raw surprise he could, Keith stared the enemy down. He used the same alarm he felt earlier to mix the concoction of strong, pure emotion. Emotions had so much power. Keith had always underestimated that much, always endeavoured to suppress or conceal the raw forms. That was until he worked out how to turn it on its head _like this._

“Now, Keith!” Shiro yelled, dodging a swipe from the staff.

Keith opened his palms, and out it surged. The force whipped up a faint gust around him. Keith kept pushing. The surprise morphed into the kind of shock that paralysed. The kind that rooted you to the spot, slammed hard into your bones and ruptured any prospect of calm. Keith held it there, then released with one final blow. As Shiro dove forwards, the staff shattered from the force of the double attack. Not wasting a second, Keith closed in on the other side. With the prosthetic, Shiro made a clean slash. The opponent fell with a strange whizzing noise. Some electrical pulses buzzed too. Towering over the scene, Keith narrowed his eyes.

“It’s not… human.” He breathed, studying the intricate wiring that spilled out the side. But there was also blood. There was also a lot of things that you wouldn’t expect to find in a robot. Leaning down curiously, Shiro angled the deteriorated surface.

“Someone made this. Maybe the Galra.”

“Think they really have that kind of tech?”

The Galra were advanced, but this didn’t look like their robeasts or any other type of creations. Peering over Shiro’s shoulder, it was then Keith noticed the faint red blinking, the intermittent beeping, the numbers rapidly counting down.

“Shiro, look out!”

It happened fast. Keith yanked Shiro backwards as the numbers hit zero. Shiro whipped round, pulling Keith upwards into sky with him. The blast chased them before spewing outwards viciously. By the time they were a few seconds higher and soaring through buildings, the entire warehouse was gone. Staring down at the carnage, Keith exhaled. Shiro slowed his pace, leisurely cruising them along the skyline. For a moment, everything gave way to this. Time slowed, seconds drawing themselves out into minutes.

Keith counted the buildings as they passed them. He counted fourteen skyscrapers by the time Shiro finally set them down. On the roof, of course. The one place they could exist as heroes without being bombarded by the public.

“Good to have you back, Shiro.” Keith breathed, dusting off the debris that had caught in his suit.

Shiro laughed. It was easy and free and devoid of tension.

“It’s good to be back.” With palpable mirth, he turned to Keith. “That was pretty amazing back there. What you did.”

What he did. _Oh._ It didn’t take long for realisation to set in. Walking to the edge of the roof, Keith searched for what he was looking for on the horizon. Close to the smoke and fumes of the warehouse explosion, tiny wisps of rising fire could be seen. The echoes of a destruction _he’d_ caused in his own city. Keith had done that, not any villain or criminal. A supposed hero had turned an entire section of this city into an apocalyptic warzone. That sat unpleasantly with him. It was irresponsible. It was foolish and everything he had vowed to avoid. But there he had plunged straight into all the upheaval. He had _started_ that upheaval. All because he had lost control for a split second, _because Keith had been looking out for Shiro._

“We should talk about this.” Keith said quietly, folding his hands into his arms. It was easier that way. He didn’t know what to do with them. The breeze carded through his hair gently, whispering things. Unspoken truths. Unwanted ones. _You did that,_ it said. Keith heard the disappointment, felt it enough in himself. _You did that for Shiro._

“We should.”

Shiro’s hand pressed into Keith’s shoulder as he got closer. Keith shuddered, blaming the wind for the reaction. As if he wasn’t teetering far enough over a dozen ledges, already. This wasn’t one he could fall into. Not whilst he was Axon and Shiro was Atria. Gazing out at the horizon, the city he had a duty to protect, Keith pursed his lips tight.

Heroes didn’t get to decide what was best for them. Heroes didn’t get to indulge in the quiet private moments of life. Life was more frail than it looked, and it needed watching over. Heroes could not place their own happiness above anyone else’s, they could not prioritise another person above others. Yet that’s exactly what Keith had done today. He’d left so many people in the wake of his own _turbulent_ outpourings, cast them into a state of panic without a passing thought to how better he could’ve handled the situation.

What’s more, Keith had allowed himself to be misled. He’d walked right into a classic trap without even _thinking,_ because it had been Shiro. Keith pitted the safety of Altea against the wellbeing of one person, because it had been Shiro. Keith got swept up into things he shouldn’t have. _They’ll use you against me._

“Keith?”

“Hm?” Turning his head, Keith caught Shiro’s quiet gaze. And he melted into it instantly.

Atria was an anchor, grounding him. Reminding him of the person he could become, steering him in the right direction. Atria was the hero Keith could grow into one day, a fellow guardian of Altea.

Shiro was a chain, winding round his hands and shackling him to promises he wanted to make and things he wanted to give. Overwhelming him with everything he was and everything he did and _everything_ he made Keith feel. Shiro was the focal point, the beacon, the peak on the tip of the mountains. It was all too big, more profound than the universe. The depth of what Shiro made possible floored him.

“I said I’ve been doing some thinking lately. These… past few months have been strange without you.”

They had. Keith agreed with that, he’d felt the shift and he hadn’t liked it. But now he was standing here, now they were lingering in the aftermath of a fight that had only happened _because their enemies knew they were close to each other,_ Keith knew it was better that way. Even if he didn’t like it.

“So what do you say?” Shiro asked, holding out his hand.

“I-”

Keith knew exactly what this meant, what he was offering. Everything Keith had pleaded for all those months ago. For them to join forces, for them to entangle their lives further. To become one formidable team. And _god,_ god his fingers itched to grab the hand. Every piece of him wanted to take that hand and never let go. The instinct to do so was near impossible to resist. But it became easier once Keith recalled the fear he’d felt. The earth-shaking, mind-numbing fear he had felt in the face of everything Shiro said would happen one day. The depth of his failure, the colossal _rookie_ errors he’d made just because he hadn’t been thinking clearly when it counted. The deterioration of his composure. The collapse of his _world_ in a matter of minutes. The _voices_ in his head that had been afraid, just as afraid as him.

Lotor. The new villain in town, the one who knew _everything_ about them including their identities. The one who had been smart enough to draw dangerous conclusions. Audition, he’d said. Lotor had plans. Big ones. Big ones that undoubtedly meant havoc for Altea, ones that might try to further _expose_ Keith’s biggest weakness. Lotor was a serious threat. Those piercing eyes flashed through his mind, those sharp teeth and even sharper words.

_My, my, my… You’re really quite taken with him aren’t you-_

“-I can’t do this anymore.” Keith bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood, body rigid and oozing tension. A firmer repetition: “I can’t do this anymore.”

Shiro released Keith’s shoulder. As he did, the concern swathed over Keith. Concern wasn’t what Keith needed, not what he deserved. Keith took a step away from the edge, keeping the distance between them. It hurt, _god it hurt_ . But _what else could he do in this situation_ ? The greater good was calling, it called both of them. Being objective was the most important thing. One life could never be set against the countless others. Keith _never_ wanted Shiro to be pitted against him like that, used as a tool to deceive and trick him, as the biggest _trap_ . Keith was wrong about it all, about _everything._ Now he understood. Now he could see exactly what he couldn’t that day, walking on the cracked pavement of Central Altea. Shiro had been right. They could never fight together, not like this.

It was _terrifying,_ the things he would do for Shiro.

There was too much at stake, and _not just for them._

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m sorry Shiro but, it - you’ve become my world. And that - the world needs both of us. So I can’t, I _can’t-_ ”

“-How can you say that?” Shiro was angry. Keith could feel it emanating in short hot bursts that ploughed into him. “Just _months_ ago you were asking to fight alongside me and now we have the chance to do that, you won’t? All because I’m important to you? _You’re_ important to me too, Keith. That’s why I _want_ to do this!”

“They’ll use you against me.” Keith said frantically, words spilling out in a blur of agitated chaos that grew and grew and grew. These words were familiar from somewhere, they tasted bitter on his tongue and left him gasping for air.

“ _Please_ , Shiro…”

Keith didn’t finish that sentence, because what he wanted and what he had to do were two completely different things. And his resolve was weakening, because the months apart from Shiro had felt like centuries and now they were back in each other’s orbit, everything felt aligned. Everything had purpose again. But they _had_ a purpose predetermined for them, one dictated by the extremities of mankind’s hunger for power and revenge.

“Do you realise how _hypocritical_ you’re being? To stand here and throw _my own words-_ that you didn’t even agree with once - back in my face?”

Keith knew. He knew that he had contradicted himself, and his intentions. He knew that choosing the greater good was the right thing to do, and he also knew that he and Shiro would be a formidable team. He knew that he had once been against working alone, against everything he was saying now. He had stood there and _fought_ for their partnership, all whilst Shiro had argued against it. Somehow, their positions had been entirely reversed. Keith was sickened by the flutter in his stomach at the thought.

This time, Shiro was _chasing after him._

“Shiro, you don’t understand. I- I thought you were _dead_ and because of that I-”

“-I didn’t hear it, Keith. I didn’t hear what happened in the street.” Shiro said, almost too quiet for Keith to catch. But Keith caught the shift on the corners of his mind, attentive to the details here.

“What?” Keith asked. “But in the warehouse you said you-”

“-I didn’t hear it.” Shiro confirmed, staring directly at Keith and for the life of him Keith couldn’t look away. “I felt it.”

It rose up inside Keith; hot prickly embarrassment that felt closer to shame. _Regret,_ that regret again. Shiro had _felt_ everything. The panic, the desperation. All of it. Shiro hadn’t just gotten wind of his thoughts, he’d experienced those raw emotions. Oh _god._ This was too much. Shiro knew _everything._ Shiro could see everything. Even the things he hadn’t let slip, it must have been obvious now. Averting his gaze, Keith went to stepback.

“Keith. Just listen to me-”

“I don’t have to listen to anything!” Keith snapped back. His balance wavered on the edge of the roof. But he didn’t fall, knew he wouldn’t. Because Shiro was right there to tug him back on track. Maybe that was reckless, trusting in one person this much. Shiro did tug him back, as expected. A small bemused sound escaped his lips as Keith leant a fraction too far backwards.

“Woah, easy there.” His voice was strained, laced with tensions that wouldn’t unwind.

Twisting out of Shiro’s grip, Keith spun around him. Shiro followed his movements carefully. The next wave was coming, Keith could feel it. And the only way off this blasted roof was either Shiro flying them down or the fire escape. Keith didn’t really fancy the possibility of bumping into office workers on sixty-four flight staircase to the bottom. It was an exit route, the way out. Keith turned from that too.

“You felt it.”

“I did.”

Keith was angry, upset. So was Shiro. Which was exactly what gave him the confidence to probe. Back to Shiro, eyes fixed on the city of Altea, Keith started the exploration with deliberate caution. A few corners down, and he could feel insistence. Something intermittently pressing down strongly into whatever it could find. Lost reassurance, perhaps. No. It wasn’t quite that. It was more-

- _Oh._ Oh now he was getting somewhere.

“Get out my head, Keith.” Shiro said far too calmly.

Keith could _feel_ the tinges of fire burning his skin, the biting snap of his mind, and Keith tried he _honestly tried_ but his pulse was reeling and his hands were clammy. Because what he was hearing was too much, no. What he was _feeling_ was too much. Beneath that fire was something constant and unyielding. Something intangible Keith was unsure how to articulate. It was a rare thing in this form. Keith had felt it, _seen it_ be distorted in people. He had seen it mutate into something terrible, he had seen it be used as leverage as something insincere. He had seen it be twisted and wielded as a weapon. In his own life, it was discarded with the suitcases on the doorstep, it was swept away with the countless foster care papers; it was on an unreachable horizon.

In _life_ he had rarely stumbled across love like this.

And this love, it was all for him. For Keith and everything he was.

**_Keith._ **

Wide eyes trailing up Shiro’s face, Keith pulled back in alarm. The connection broke abruptly and he gasped for air with the dizzying sensation. It almost knocked him off his feet, messing with his balance and the final shreds of his composure.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry Shiro, I- I didn’t - I-”

 _Shit._ He wasn’t prepared for the tenderness in Shiro’s voice, how it filled not just his head but all the empty places in his heart and the hollowness in his bones. What’s more, he didn’t feel any different. The connection may have severed, but the warmth continued. That feeling had seized him and clasped him tightly in a strong unwavering grip. It squeezed tighter, it consumed him.

Keith loved Shiro. Of course he did.

And despite expecting to see the loss of all those things in Shiro’s eyes as he finally caught his gaze, Keith didn’t. There were no walls. The walls were down. Keith didn’t have to be Axon or a superhero to read this face and what was woven between the slight mist of those eyes. Shiro was right here, and the love remained. The love wasn’t going anywhere.

“You…” Keith said, almost reverently. There was tentativeness as he stepped forwards, caution. Born of self-preservation, _survival._ Because he had lost Shiro before, they had run themselves round so many impossible circles and fallen into so many dark chasms. The universe was never fair it was simply something that existed, and Keith was used to the ground being pulled from beneath him.

Quite literally on some days, to be honest.

But with each step Keith took forwards, the ground was sturdy. Far sturdier than himself. A lifetime of walking beside Shiro, _running_ to him, chasing after him and turning away - a dance. Of course, he already knew all the steps. They had danced on the balcony of heroes, the world a ballroom. A samba; they had teetered over the edge and they had crashed and burned in the forces of evil so terrifying it should have killed them both. They threw themselves into a fiery tango, recklessly diving forwards too close if it meant the other was safe, spinning and spinning and spinning. They had danced a poignant bolero in the orange sun, the distance expanding, twisting and turning away from each other as Keith had walked away.

They had yet to waltz.

Keith reached out with a hand to cup Shiro’s face. The touch was gentle and clumsy. Shiro’s face was cool to the touch, had him flinching away. Shiro caught it, holding it there. Keith’s hand was trembling despite himself, he realised. Oh. A soft smile curled into Shiro’s lips. It was fragile and a little off center. Keith had seen Shiro’s dazzling smiles to the world, seen the laugh lines on his face as he threw his head back and gave in, watched the way smiles trickled like sunlight and left such a beautiful glow wherever they went. This smile wasn’t forged from any of this - this was an unrefined quiet thing tucked right into the corner.

Their hands joined together. Their lips were parted, breath entangled. Small assurances passed between them. Not words. Just the echoes of them that spilled like waves across the shore, easing in and easing out of focus. Their shadows moulded into one, stretching across the rooftop languidly with time. There was admiration here.

Their eyes meandered, occasionally catching and setting off small sparks between them. They roamed and explored slowly. Keith followed the scar to where it faded, he found the creases and worked up to find more written into Shiro’s forehead. Then sweeping across and down to his lips. Both took time to trace over skin, attention solely focused on this task. As if they were witnessing the birth of stars up close, or coming to the final pages of a story. And perhaps they were. Perhaps this was the birth of something unshakable, the end of one story but the beginning of another.

Their noses brushed as their foreheads finally pushed together and _god._ Keith pushed, he pushed fervently back and could feel the hot prickling moisture in his eyes as he clamped them shut. This was sheer desperation, this was also despair. Keith felt himself splintering, and he felt Shiro’s own unravelling beneath his fingertips. This was beautiful, beautiful destruction in the presence of something truly staggering. It was almost too much. Eyelashes tickled cheeks. It _was_ definitely too much, and Keith never wanted to let go. Not now here was here, not now they were both here.

Keith’s hands reached into Shiro’s hair to keep him close and keep this moment from being torn away. Like it always had been before. Shiro pushed further with that, and Keith reached out again. Not with his hands, with his mind. And Shiro let him. The force of what greeted Keith almost knocked him backwards entirely. Shiro clasped onto him tight, their foreheads butting a fraction too hard. Messy laughter fell from Keith’s lips. He nudged back with just as much urgency. It was give and take. Only they were both giving _everything_ for this.

The angle shifted, and Keith felt their noses bump once more. Lips ghosted over dampened skin, lightly catching cheekbones and the curves of jawlines. Keith opened his own mind then a little more, adoring and fierce affection spewing between them. Shiro had felt him in the streets, but what he had felt in the streets was but a tiny fragment of the things that burrowed inside Keith. The extent of what nestled within him was unfathomable. As it began to surface, Shiro’s hands came up to Keith’s and squeezed.

Another breathless laugh spluttered into existence, accompanied by rapid blinks that produced hot moisture. It trickled down his face. Shiro reached over with a thumb, swiping at the silent tears gently and caressing the spot. Inching closer, Keith pressed his trembling lips to the hand. It was with reverence, with everything unfolding around them. Shiro’s thumb trailed down slowly, tracing down to rest on his chin.

Eyes opened gradually. Foreheads nudged one final time before they parted. Almost shyly, the raw vulnerability leaving nowhere to hide, their eyes latched onto each other. Neither quite seemed to know what to say, or do. Momentarily dazed by the sheer sincerity of such enormous things, they simply stood together. Attention turned to the setting sun ahead of them, the city ending yet another day below.

“Wow.” Shiro whispered eventually.

“Yeah, wow.” Keith concurred a moment later, arms folded as he took in the beginnings of a vibrant twilight.

“So I take it we’re stuck together for good.”

It was voiced like a statement, but actually it was a question. Keith could sense the uncertainty, the understated poignancy creeping into every syllable. Lips twitching, Keith shrugged. It was playful and light.

“Guess so.”

“Don’t sound too happy about that.” Shiro teased, and he wouldn’t need to look much further than the constellations of stars devoted to him that sat in Keith’s eyes to know that he was happy. He really truly was.

“I’ll try.”

Keith had never wanted to be a hero.

He had never chosen to be one either. But _this?_ Keith had wanted this. And for the first time in his life, he had let himself choose this. For himself. For Shiro. For them. Because they were better together. Lotor had no idea what he would be facing, what the pair of them could do once united. Maybe it _was_ more dangerous, maybe it was a risk. And sometimes heroes had to make huge sacrifices for the greater good.

But there were also rare moments where the universe made sacrifices of its own. It shed all pretences and expectations.

And as it did so, it whispered: _thank you, heroes._ And it gave them a choice.  

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! I'd love to know your thoughts and your experience. I really really REALLY enjoyed writing this. the wonder woman soundtrack honestly was such a jam for all of this. i hope the intensity of what i felt making this came across, if even a fraction of it did i'll be happy


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